Darkness Descends (The Silver Legacy Book 1) Read online

Page 19


  Cassandra shrugged. “There is nothing more we can do here tonight. They are too fearful. They shall not return this night. I fear, if you do not act quickly, she may not return at all.”

  Denny nodded and helped Cassandra to her feet. “Did you see her though? I mean, is she...okay?”

  “I’m sorry I could not reach Rushalyn. They were too strong...but I did feel her there.”

  Denny’s stomach dropped. “And?”

  “And she’s scared. Too frightened for a ghost.”

  “She’s scared? I...I don’t understand.”

  “It is quite possible that she does not fear for herself but for––”

  “It’s strange to hear that a spirit can be afraid.”

  Cassandra cocked her head. “You misunderstand me, Golden Silver. Rushalyn Holbrook isn’t scared for herself. She’s afraid for you.”

  “For me? Did she say why? Do you know why?”

  Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Golden, she is afraid for you because those spirits who came through weren’t just spirits.”

  “No?” Denny was afraid to ask. “What...what were they?”

  Cassandra turned slowly. “Demons, Golden. They were demons.”

  ***

  “You’ve made her mad now, Boris,” Rush said from behind the bars that enclosed her. “And, trust me, pissing her off is a bad, bad idea.”

  “Shut up.”

  Rush laughed. “Or what? You’ll kill me? Send me to my forever room? Look, you got what you wanted. She’s in the game. Now go see who’s the better hunter. I already know who, and she’s going to blow your sorry ass to smithereens. Turn out the lights, the party’s over.”

  The demon cracked his knuckles and spit at her feet. “Shut up. And stop calling me Boris.”

  Rush shook her head. “She blew up one of your lesser buddies in the cemetery without even breaking a sweat. She’s going to come for me, and when she does––”

  “Shut your pie hole for one minute. She’s a rookie, a virgin in the realm of demons. She got lucky in the cemetery with those buffoons. The next time, she will be destroyed—” he snapped his fingers, “like that.”

  Rush laughed. “What you talkin’ about Willis? You’re not only ugly, you’re a fool. Denny isn’t like anyone you’ve ever conned, swindled, cajoled, or dealt with. You’ll see. When she figures out how to, she’s gonna rip you and your buddies a new one.”

  “What I see is a stupid human who is blind enough to believe she can have a relationship with a ghost. In case no one’s told you, you’re dead. Dead. You think me cruel? Well, hold up a mirror to your face because what you’re doing to her is way worse.”

  Rush opened her mouth to reply, but chose to say nothing.

  “Yeah, keeping her from living a real life with a real person is about as self-absorbed and narcissistic as you can get. So put your judgments of me aside until you figure that one out. Ghosts like you disgust me. You disgust me.” The demon shook his head. “And yet, she’s too blinded to see that and she’s willing to risk everything. Everything. Who the hell risks everything for someone already dead? Actually, sweet-pea, the better question is, who lets someone risk everything?”

  The question sliced like a guillotine through Rush, opening wounds of doubt she’d refused to look at since she’d fallen in love with Denny.

  “Yeah,” the demon grumbled. “That’s what I thought.”

  ***

  Denny banged on the door until Ames finally opened it.

  “It is almost midnight,” Ames said, his eyes glancing up and down the street. “Are you mad?”

  “I’m mad all right, but pissed off mad. I had a séance tonight and––”

  Ames held his hand up. “What about midnight do you not understand? I clearly explained the rules, and yet––”

  “What’s a Hanta?”

  Ames blinked. He looked left, and then right before pulling Denny into the house, slamming the door and locking the deadbolts. “Where on earth did you read that word?”

  “I told you. I had a séance tonight and––”

  “Coffee. I’m going to need coffee if we’re going to have this conversation.”

  Denny followed him into the kitchen and told him every detail of the séance.

  Ames turned to her. “A séance? Really? You didn’t stop to think about the ramifications of such an activity? You have no idea what evil you all could have allowed into our world.”

  “I’m just trying to––”

  “Fuck things up,” Ames yelled, leaning on the counter with both hands. “Jesus, Goldy, have you read any of the books in your library? Even looked at your mother’s journal? Have you ever thought about the dangers involved? Have you––”

  “She wrote in the Black Book. Did you know that?”

  He returned his attention to the coffee machine. “Of course I knew that. It’s part of the job responsibility. You detail your kills in your own blood. It is only legacy blood that allows other hunters around the world to see what demons have been killed and how they were taken out.”

  “Part of the job responsibility? Think maybe you could have mentioned that?”

  Ames ignored the question until he finished making the coffee. “It’s not important right now that you know those details. Listen to me. There is so much you need to know before you cast your life into a world from which there is no return.”

  “No return? Sure there is. I don’t have to be a demon hunter. I can walk away at any time.”

  Ames closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were on fire. “Can you? Is that what you think? You think you can just walk away any time you want? Well, you’re wrong. You are so fucking wrong, you’re going to get your family killed and everyone you know destroyed by your ignorance.” He walked around the island and shoved Denny off the stool––an act that caught her completely off-guard.

  “What the fuck?” Denny demanded, jumping to her feet. “You’re fucking crazy.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Ames shoved her again and this time she hit the wall. Two photos fell onto the floor, the glass breaking from the frames. “You have no fucking clue what real crazy looks like.”

  “That’s it, man. I’m outta here. I don’t need this shit.” She was almost to the door when he slammed her, head first, into it, her forehead bouncing off the door.

  “It’s not a game, Denny. It’s your life.” Ames grabbed her neck and started choking her. “Your fucking life! What. Don’t. You. Understand?”

  Denny coughed, sputtered, and closed her eyes as her hands fought for purchase.

  He was killing her.

  Her eyes opened and she felt the now familiar flow of anger through her veins and the tightening of her skin as her muscles hardened beneath it. The gravelly voice that came from her growled, “Get. The. Fuck. Off. Me.”

  She shoved Ames so hard, he crashed against the wall opposite the door and slid down it.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Denny bellowed, standing over him, fists clenched, eyes smoldering. “Don’t you ever touch me like that again or I will rip your arm off and beat you with the bloody end of it.”

  Ames looked up at her from the floor and pointed to the wall. “Look in the mirror, Goldy. You want to know what a Hanta is? There it is. Look.”

  “I oughtta fucking kill you, you son of a bitch.” Denny kept her clenched fists at her side.

  “Hear that voice? Is that your voice, Goldy?”

  “My––” She stammered. “Fuck you.”

  “Look in the mirror. You’ll understand why I attacked you. Just look.”

  Denny hesitated, her chest heaving, her fists still clenched.

  Ames sat up and touched the back of his head. “You must feel it, Goldy: the raw energy, the incredible strength. You’ve felt it before, haven’t you? The sheer power of the energy in your veins is driving the bus right now. Go on. Look in the mirror.”

  Denny strode over to the mirror and stared at herself. Staring back
at her were glowing red eyes: fierce, angry, not hers, and not green. Red. Red glowing eyes.

  “What the hell?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, they were still red but not as fiery. “What’s the matter with me?” Her voice sounded more like her own, but there were still traces of that other voice.

  Ames stood behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  That was a mistake that might have cost a man without his Tae Kwon Do belts his life.

  Denny threw an elbow, narrowly missing his face. Ames jumped back and held his hands up in surrender. “Feel it, Goldy? See it pumping up your muscles and making you feel invincible? It’s a part of you now. The Hanta is within you. Who knows how long it’s been there, but it’s there. There is no walking away. Not now. Now ever.”

  “What are you talking about?” She stepped closer. Ames stepped back.

  “I’ll explain it all once you’re back to normal. Calm yourself and we can talk. Breathe deeply.”

  “I am calm.”

  Ames shook his head. “Look in the mirror again. Take deep breaths. Calm yourself. When the red is gone and your eyes have returned to green, you and I will talk.”

  Denny nodded and returned her gaze to the mirror. Her eyes, while no longer glowing, were still red. A few deep breaths and she watched in silent fear as the red subsided and she was once again herself.

  “I’m sorry I had to do that, Goldy, but I’ve dealt with legacies before and I know that denial is the first hurdle that must be overcome. It is easier to circumvent that roadblock if you can see it for yourself. I needed you to see it for what it is.”

  “You keep saying it. What is it?”

  Ames poured himself some coffee and looked at Denny, who nodded. He poured a second cup and slid it to her. “Let’s take our coffee downstairs and I’ll explain everything.”

  Denny could not keep her hands from shaking. What was happening to her?

  “It...it is something only legacy hunters experience,” Ames said. “And as much as I wanted to tell you, I’ve discovered over the years that it is always easier for a legacy to figure it out instead of being told.”

  “Are you one?”

  He turned on the lights and leaned against a counter top. “No, I am not, but I’ve met a couple in my life. Not all legacies have Hantas, but the Silver Legacy always does. Always.”

  “Ames, stop beating around the bush. What is wrong with me?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, Goldy. You are a legacy demon hunter. A legacy demon hunter is different from the rest of us because you have...it.”

  “It?”

  He sipped his coffee before nodding. “The Hanta Raya.” He motioned for her to sit in the recliner. “Please. We have a long night ahead of us.”

  Denny bit her lower lip. “A Hanta Raya? That’s what that demon from the séance called me...Hanta. It fled in a panic. Cassandra said it was afraid.”

  Ames tipped his head. “Cassandra Moylan? She was your medium?”

  Denny nodded.

  “Ah then. She’s the real deal. If any of that bunch can contact a demon, it’s Cassandra. She is the High Priestess of the coven and a master of the craft. If she saw the Hanta, then it was there for sure.”

  Denny held her coffee in both hands as she sipped it. “She...they are for real, huh?”

  “The witches? Oh, a few are. Not all. Cassandra is for sure. If she said the demon was afraid of you, she was right. Demons fear and loathe the Hanta Raya more than any other.”

  “Which is what? Why did he call me that?”

  Ames put his hands on his hips. “Sometimes the questions we ask are the ones we are not ready to hear the answer to.”

  “I’m not a little kid, Ames. Just tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Ames paced back and forth. “Fine. Even after what you saw in the mirror, your brain will not want to wrap itself around what I am about to tell you.”

  “It doesn’t appear as if that matters now, does it? I’m in whether I want to accept it or not.”

  Ames ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “You need a little history first, so please be patient. The Hanta Raya originated in Malaysia and are considered the masters of all ghosts and demons. Hanta means ghost, and Raya means supreme. The Malay were believed to have formed a pact with demons or, in your case, inherited it from older generations in the form known as Saka, or legacy, which is handed down through the generations.”

  Denny scooted to the edge of her seat. “Wait. A pact?”

  Ames continued. “Yes. A legacy pact. In return for the advantages and power of having a Hanta, the recipient agrees to provide for the spirit and to appoint a new recipient before dying. That way, the Hanta is guaranteed to live on.”

  “Advantages and power?”

  “Yes. Power. Raw physical strength is one such power that you have already experienced. The ability to commune with the dead. The capability of seeing through demonic masks to know there is a demon within. Any of this sound at all familiar?”

  Denny gulped and licked her lips. Realization settled on her shoulders like a gargoyle. “My new strength? That weird voice? Those red eyes? Those are all indications that I’m––”

  He nodded. “In laymen’s terms––”

  “I’m possessed.”

  Ames looked away. “Yeah. Pretty much. Legacy hunters, such as the family you’ve been born into, hand the demon’s spirit down through their lineage. Sometimes the hunter can choose which shell the demon will possess; other times, out of necessity like, oh, say a car crash, the demon has to choose. One of you kids was going to have to be the recipient. The Hanta chose whatever child your mother had in mind. Clearly, it was you.”

  “So my mother had it? She was possessed, too.”

  “If you’d have read her journal––”

  “My mother’s journal is six inches thick, Mr. Walker, with teeny tiny writing. It’s going to take me awhile to get through it.”

  “Ah. That explains it.”

  Denny clasped her hands together and stared down at them. “Yeah, but it doesn’t explain why the Hanta is in me. My mother is still alive.”

  “Is she?” Ames tilted his head at Denny. “Is she, really? Would a Hanta be fed by her?” Can she keep up her end of the legacy contract? Would a demon think or feel as if she were alive?”

  Denny’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well...sort of.” Then she shook her head. No. Not really.”

  “Exactly. At some point, your Hanta jumped ship. It bailed. Now, it is within you. It chose you.”

  “So basically, you’re saying I’m cursed.”

  Ames ran his hand through his hair again. “Well now, that depends on whether or not you want to be a hunter or if you want to spend your life fighting the demon within.”

  “So I do have a choice.”

  Ames chuckled. “Well sort of. Let me finish my history lesson and then you’ll understand. You see, Hantas are unique in the demon kingdom. They alone feed on the souls of other demons. It’s a symbiotic relationship between you and the Hanta. You hunt other demons to help mankind, the Hanta can endow you with additional aid to do so. You, in turn, kill the food for the Hanta.”

  “Hold up. Hold up. I feed it?”

  “Yes. You feed it the souls of dead demons and it stays strong and healthy. Together, you work for the greater good and to keep each other alive.”

  “So when I killed that demon and it exploded...”

  “Your Hanta ate its soul. You fed it. It protected you. Symbiosis.”

  “And that’s the legacy. Someone in my family made a deal with the devil.”

  “There is no devil, Denny...or at least, not that ties in with the Hantas. This was a deal that was struck centuries ago for reasons you’ll have to read to find out. It is different for each Hanta.”

  Denny crossed her arms. “And if I decide this is not a legacy I want anything to do with?”

  Ames shrugged. “Then you need to find anoth
er host. As far as I know, unless a family is completely wiped out before any progeny are born, there is no other way to destroy a Hanta Raya. If your family is wiped out, the Hanta has no place to go, no one to feed it and so it will die.”

  “Wait. Host? You mean, it could move to Pure or Quick?”

  Ames shook his head. “Not Quick. Not Sterling. Pure. It seems the Hanta skipped over your oldest siblings for some reason.” He held his hand up. “And no, I have no idea why. Conjecture, yes, but I don’t know why for certain.”

  “You know about Sterling and Quick?”

  Ames pulled a three-inch folder out and handed it to Denny. “I told you. I’m not one to mentor just anyone. You think I’d stop what I’m doing in my life for a nobody? I knew who you were the moment Brianna called me. I’ve known about you and your siblings for years. I’ve known about Rushalyn Holbrook as well.”

  Denny hefted the file. “Jesus. Do you know the color of my underwear?”

  “You don’t wear any.”

  Denny stared slack-jawed. “How the hell––”

  Ames laughed. “It was a good guess.” Squatting down, Ames pulled a tray out of the cupboard and set it on the counter. “I’m sure you have a million questions, and we have a lot of work to do to get you ready. Now that the Hanta is awake, there’s not much time.”

  “I haven’t decided if this is something I want in my life.”

  Ames shook his head slowly. “That’s just it, Goldy. You keep making it sound like it is a decision that is still within your grasp. Don’t you see? The dark side has already made that decision for you. Why do you think they took Rush? They’re drawing you in while you are young and inexperienced in the hopes that those two ingredients get you killed. Quite frankly, I’m a little surprised you’re still alive. By the looks of that eyebrow, I’d say you came awfully close to cutting your own head off.”

  “Wait. You...you know about Rush being gone?”

  “I know exactly why you had them come and what you hoped to accomplish. I take it the spirits saw your Hanta and bolted.”

  Denny nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “Yeah, well, next time you have an idea to do something as foolish as open the gates to the demonic world, I hope you talk to me about it first.”